"Oh yes, we had that sort of thing at Schaffenbrucken."
She nodded. "We already have a dancing master and a singing master. Some of the girls have excellent voices. Mademoiselle Dupont and Frâulein Kutcher teach French and German and are very adequate. One must have the natives of the respective countries."
I listened attentively. She had inspired me with a desire to see the Abbey school.
It seemed disloyal to Aunt Patty to want to get away from home, but I really did believe I should not want to be there all the time, and coming home for holidays would be wonderful. I could almost hear the humming of Violet's bees and see Aunt Patty wearing an enormous hat sitting under one of the trees at a white table on which were laid out cakes, meringues and strawberry jam. Pleasant .. . homely ... comfortable, but I could not stop thinking of that Abbey school with the ghostly ruins nearby and the mansion, the home of the all powerful Verringers, a few miles away.
I was still thinking of it when I retired and I had not been in my room more than five minutes when Aunt Patty came in. She threw herself in the armchair puffing slightly with exertion and merriment.
"I think she's hooked," she said. "I think she is going to make an offer. She always makes quick decisions. Prides herself on it. I could see that Schaffenbrucken was turning the scales."
"I was rather intrigued."
"I could see it. She'll make you an offer. I think you ought to take it. If you don't like it and she tries to ride roughshod over you, you can walk out at once. But she won't. Give her a fair day's work and she'll look after you. I know her well. But as I say, if anything should go wrong, Vi and I will be waiting for you. You know that."
"You always made things very easy for me," I said emotionally. "I'll never forget arriving at the dock and seeing you there in that hat with the blue feather."
Aunt Patty wiped her eyes. There were sentimental tears but tears of laughter too. "Oh, that hat. I still have it somewhere. I reckon the feather's a bit mangey. I could put a new feather on it. Why not?"
"Oh Aunt Patty," I said, "if Daisy Hetherington does offer me a post ... and I take it ... it isn't because I don't want to be with you."
"Of course it's not. You've got to have a life of your own and it's not for the young to bury themselves with the old. Vi and I have our interests. Your life is just beginning. It's right for you to step out into the world, and as I said, play your cards rightly and one of these days ... who knows? She doesn't own that place, you see. Just a lease on it, I suppose. She must have got that from those Verringers she's always talking about. She's comfortable enough there. I'd like you to go in with Daisy. I have a great respect for her really. At the best it could lead to big things and at the least it could be valuable experience."
We embraced. She tiptoed out looking happily conspiratorial; and I went to bed and slept well after my previous night's distorted dreams.
The next day I had a long talk with Daisy Hetherington, and the outcome was that if I would care to join her school at the beginning of the Summer term she would be pleased to have me. I should work out a curriculum similar to that which had been followed at Schaffenbrucken and in addition to taking debating and conversation classes I should exercise the girls in deportment and teach them English.
It seemed an interesting project and as she had already whetted my curiosity with descriptions of the school which was part of an abbey, I was very inclined to accept.
However as I was concerned about Aunt Patty and I knew she was urging me to go for my own good rather than her pleasure, I did hesitate.
"I must have your reply immediately after Christmas," said Daisy, and it was left at that.
Aunt Patty was delighted. "The right approach," she said. "Not too eager. Well, Daisy will depart immediately after the carol concert. She is staying for that, just for the pleasure of telling us how much more accomplished are the carol singers of Colby Abbey Academy for Young Ladies."
In due course Daisy left with gracious thanks for our hospitality and with the command that my reply must be with her before the first of January.
Then it was time for the girls to leave. We said sad farewells to them all. Otherwise Christmas was much as it had always been. There was the traditional goose and Christmas pudding and many of our neighbours joined us during the two days. The local fiddler came in and we danced in the hall. But everyone was aware that it was the last time and that must mean a certain amount of sadness.
I was glad when it was over, and then I had to make my decision, which I suppose I had already done. I wrote to Daisy Hetherington accepting her offer and telling her that I should be prepared to start at the beginning of the Spring term.
There was packing to do and the new house to visit. It was pleasant - quite charming in fact, but of course rather insignificant compared with the Manor.
I had heard nothing from Edward Compton. I was surprised and hurt for I had expected some explanation. It seemed so extraordinary. Sometimes I began to think I had imagined the whole thing. When I looked back I realized that apart from the encounter with the other three girls, I had been alone when I saw him-on the train, on the boat and in the woods. I could in some moments convince myself that I had imagined those meetings.
After all there was something about him which was different from other people.
I realized then that I knew little of men. A lot of girls would have been far more experienced long ago. I suppose it was due to being at school so long. Young men had just not come into my life. Monique had met her Henri whom she knew she was going to marry. Frieda might not have met any more men than I had. Lydia had brothers and they had friends whom they sometimes brought home. She had talked of them when she came back after holidays at home. But I had lived in a society dominated by women. There was, of course, the vicar's new curate. He was in his twenties and shy; there was the doctor's son who was at Cambridge. Neither was very romantic. That was it. Edward Compton was definitely romantic. He had stirred new interests in me. Perhaps because he had showed rather clearly that he liked me ... preferred me. One must be gratified to be so preferred among three far from unattractive girls.
Yes, I was bitterly disappointed. It had begun so romantically ... and then to peter out!
Perhaps that was one of the reasons why I was reaching out for adventure. I wanted to take a challenge, to start in new territory.
I certainly should when I went to the Colby Abbey Academy.
When Aunt Patty had shown me the new house at Moldenbury, I had expressed a greater enthusiasm than I had really felt-just to please her. We had explored the rather large garden and decided where Aunt Patty should have her summer house and Violet her bees, which should be my room and how it should be furnished.
On the way home we had to wait at the London terminal for catching the train to Canterton and, while I was there, I saw a notice which mentioned trains to Bury St Edmunds.
I think the idea started to grow in my mind then.
I knew I was going to do it, although I was not quite sure how I should act when I got there.
Perhaps I shouldn't seek him out. Perhaps I just wanted to assure myself that he had really existed and that I had not been dreaming and imagined the whole adventure.
The farther I grew from the affair the more mystic it seemed. He was unlike anyone I had ever known before. He was very good looking, with those sculptured features-rather like Daisy Hetherington's but there was no doubt in my mind that she was a real person! Seeing him in the forest with my three friends had been real enough, but had I begun to imagine certain things about him? It was probably due to Elsa's talk about the mysticism of the forest legends that sometimes in my thoughts made him seem part of them. Could I have imagined that I saw him in the train, on the boat - and here in Canterton? Had I imagined the whole thing? No. It was ridiculous. I was no dreamer. I was a very practical young woman. It was a little alarming to think that one could imagine certain happenings so that one was not completely convinced that they had actually happened.